


Guessing Games

by spareteeth



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal, Anxiety, Brief mention of daddy kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Crush, Eventual Smut, M/M, Miscommunication, Moronsexual Jack, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PA Rhys, Porn With Plot, Power Imbalance, Rhys is a bitch, Rhys is a dumbass, Sexual Tension, is that a thing?, like its super brief and its at the end, not quite one bed, pining Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19020757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spareteeth/pseuds/spareteeth
Summary: Jack’s got himself a crush and is a bit of a child about it. Rhys doesn’t know how to read social cues and it flies completely over his head. Will they fight? Will they kiss? Both? Who knows?





	1. What do you mean this isn’t how you talk to guys you like?

**Author's Note:**

> This will have a plot, which is a first for me so we’ll see how that goes lmao. Shirt first chapter to kickstart the idea. The title is also in reference to something that happens later in the story but I just really liked it so you’ll have to wait and see. Rating is likely to change, as smut will most likely end up being the result of this. Any feedback or criticism is appreciated as I’m a very inexperienced writer. ^_^ enjoy!

_ God, if I wasn’t so smart, I might think I’m a idiot right about now. _

That’s about where Jack’s mind was the night before he set out for a ground mission on Pandora that he’d admittedly shoehorned himself into. It really wasn’t necessary or even reasonable that he accompanied this trip but he wasn’t quite thinking straight in any capacity as of late. It was the kind of rash decision making he’d made when he first met Moxxi, and later with Nisha, and even later with [name redacted on the grounds of memory repression, apologies for any inconvenience] and boy, was he beating himself up about it. Not too harshly, though, as he considered it a punishable offense to clown on Handsome Jack. Anyways, Jack knew he was thinking with the wrong head, if you’re picking up what he was putting down, but you know life’s short. He should know, he’s died a handful of times now. 

 

The source of his newfound desires was this pair of legs that had been working with him closely for about a year now, clad in tacky pants that were only striped on one side. If Jack was being honest, his PA pulled off tacky in a weirdly charming way, reminding him of the strange boys he’d met  _ way _ back in his school days with their smoke filled rooms and rose tinted glasses and cocaine addictions. But his PA wasn’t much like them apart from the pants to his knowledge. This lanky auburn beauty, better known as Rhys Strongfork, was almost as cute as his name was stupid. 

 

Jack was mad at himself for his behavior, but he wouldn’t admit that he was acting like a damn teenager. Of course, he knew, he would just prefer to think that he was always pulled together and in control. This made the whole schoolboy crush thing all the more infuriating, noticing little things about Rhys, catching himself staring a bit too long, touching for longer than was professionally appropriate at times. He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the prospect of him actually  _ crushing _ like this. He’s like 40 years old— give or take a few years depending on if you count his dead years— he shouldn’t be acting like this. He was thankful that his mask concealed his flushed face. 

 

Currently, the group heading down to Pandora was packing into the multi-person roundtrip pod designed specifically for easy in and out jobs like this one. Jack made sure he sat next to Rhys, maybe with more threats when the taller man wasn’t looking than was needed. The plan was to stay for the night after making rounds at one of the more recently discovered eridium mines, checking for any negligence or shenanigans amongst the workers. They arrived at the place they’d be crashing at for the night to drop off their things before they got to work. The hotel, while grand for Pandora, made Jack turn up his nose. This was way below his paygrade, and if he weren’t such a tough guy he might admit he was spoiled. I mean, come on! Where were the solid gold statues? Or the floors so glossy and clean he could mistake his reflection for a wayward body double? He was accustomed to a certain way of living and he shouldn’t have to give it up for any amount of time, dammit. Just as Jack was turning to make a snide remark about how much better his place on Helios was than this dumpy ole place he saw Rhys’ eyes widen at the building. 

 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, kiddo?” His curiosity genuinely piqued. What was so fascinating about this place?

 

Embarrassed at his own reverence of the large building, Rhys muttered, “Not like you actually care,” and began hauling his luggage through the bronze doorway.

 

“Well, gee, sorry. I didn’t know it was shark week just yet,” Jack teased as he followed suit, earning a halfhearted glare over the shoulder. He snickered and let his eyes wander from the cute flush of anger to the arguably even cuter ass swaying its way towards the entrance. It was kinda mesmerizing, in a way that made him feel like a gross old man. Not that he minded the age gap, of course, but it was still definitely on his mind the second he started to catch feelings. About 13 years is a bit steep, even for him. Another glance at Rhys’ ass, however, assured him that this was not a major area of concern and he should just keep doing what he was doing. 

 

Upon their arrival, the clerk behind the desk seemed like they couldn’t care less if the guests checked in or not, giving a nod to Rhys when he’d approached them before settling back into their seat. Cool, the less Pandoran interaction Jack could manage the better. Just to be a dick he shot a death glare at the clerk, as if their standoffish manner had slighted him personally, which made them tense up visibly. Contented, Jack caught up with Rhys, who had made it to the elevators already, handing off his bag to the bellhop in charge of getting their luggage to their rooms. 

 

“Alright, pumpkin, ready to do some real important shit?” Jack clapped his hand onto Rhys’ shoulder, leaning in too close for comfort. 

 

Shrugging his boss off, Rhys rolled his eyes and quirked a brow, “Oh, you mean watching you watching your underpaid employees? Yeah, sounds riveting.”

 

Jack clenched his jaw in annoyance, “Okay, I get it. Got a cushy job as the sexiest man alive’s right hand and you’ve gotten a little cocky. But you should know by now that I won’t stand for this attitude you’ve copped lately, sugarcheeks. You’ve been a real priss, lately. Seems like you’ve forgotten your place.”

 

They were facing each other now, two sets of mismatched eyes locked in like heat seeking missiles. Jack knew this game, he’d practically perfected it. This was a fight for dominance. He was a bit taken aback by how fucking good Rhys looked with his chest puffed in defiance, brows furrowed, and hands stock still by his sides. He noted their dangerous proximity, the kind that promised either a night in the infirmary or a night in heaven depending on how you played your cards.

 

After what felt like an eternity of tense silence, Rhys was the first to break away, giving in when he realized picking this sort of fight wouldn’t result in anything productive. Taking this as a victory, Jack scoffed and threw an arm around Rhys’ shoulders as they walked back to the front of the building, smiling in a way that might seem good natured to anyone else. 

 

It did strike Jack as odd that Rhys waited until now to try something that ballsy. He’d always had a bit of a bitchy personality, letting snide remarks slip when he thought nobody could hear him, and If he had a nickel for every time he’d received a pouty glare pointed in his direction in the past year he'd be even richer than he already was, but his typical style of aggression was deeply rooted in the passive genre. Jack suspected that if didn’t make a move soon he might have to kiss that sweet PA’s ass goodbye for good.

 

_ Okay, Jack, new plan of action. You’re gonna win this kid’s heart by the time you get back to Helios.  _

 

After the walk back to the front, they’d only waited for a brief moment before their ride pulled up, giving Jack no time to talk Rhys up, and to his immense frustration the kid had went to sleep. Right under the thick layer of annoyance, though, Jack did think it was pretty cute the way he slightly curled into himself for warmth. He considered draping his jacket over the sleeping frame across from him but decided against it. What was this? Amateur hour? Jack settled on staying in his corner and not disturbing his slumber definitely  _ not _ watching him like a pervert. 

 

_ You’re really deep in it now, dickface. _


	2. Rhys doesn’t know Jackshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words are like a tube of toothpaste, once they’re out you can’t put them back.   
> Or something like that.

Okay, so, as per usual on Pandora, the simple business trip turned into a gunfight. What was new? It was exhausting, honestly. It seemed like this shit happened every time he found himself here. Every. Single. Time. Jack scanned the area, gun still gripped tightly in his hands, searching for any remaining bandits. They had infiltrated the building with surprising stealth before ambushing the group, not knowing exactly who they were attacking. Naturally, Jack smoked a large chunk of the attackers while his employees were only mildly helpful. Rhys caught him by surprise, nabbing a pistol from one of his already dead coworkers and proving himself quite the sharpshooter. Jack would’ve been more impressed if he hadn't done it with his cybernetics, but he couldn’t deny the wave of raw desire it sent through his whole body seeing his PA get down and dirty. Watching Rhys out of the corner of his eye the whole time, Jack nearly got himself killed in his distraction, finding himself being tackled from behind. After a momentary wrestling match (with guns) he found himself straddling the assailant before bringing the butt of the gun down hard on their face, the crack of bone and the warm rush of dark blood eliciting a satisfied grunt. When he’d finished with that little situation he rose just in time to see Rhys fire the last shot of the battle, directly between the eyes of a fairly young man, probably only about 19 years old. 

 

Satisfied that the threat was completely eliminated, Jack deposited his gun back into it’s holster and turned towards Rhys, who was standing stock still and frowning to himself. His flesh hand was balled up, all white knuckles and tremors. What was his deal? They’d won! He should be celebrating. 

 

“Heya, kiddo, whaddaya say we head back to the hotel? You look like shit,” he lied, he actually thought Rhys looked sexy as hell, blood spattering his shell shocked face and his hair disheveled. A bruise had already began to form on his cheekbone where a bandit pistol whipped him. 

 

“Yeah. Back to the hotel,” Rhys breathed finally, shoulders lowering just a fraction of an inch from where they were pulled up to his ears. He shook his head as he stepped over the bodies of bandits and coworkers alike, noting that he and Jack were the only two that survived this ordeal. 

 

The ride back was quiet on Rhys’ end, dissociating while Jack talked to himself about having to drive them back and complaining about lost employees. When they arrived, Jack had to snap the younger man out of it and remind him that it wasn’t safe to horse around outside, virtually unprotected. Walking to the room was the same thing, although some lucidity was starting to reappear in Rhys, humming and nodding when the “conversation” demanded it. 

 

Once they arrived at their destination, the duo made quick work of cleaning themselves up, dried blood dirtying the unused towels. They both threw on a change of clothes, Jack only glancing over five times, which he believed showed great restraint on his part. It was hard not to gawk at the kid and his lean frame, especially upon the discovery of the dark blue ink that stained the better part of his torso. Along the borders of the tattoo were small triangles pointed outwards, away from the pectoral. He did find it funny that the tattoo completely encompassed his nipple, circling it like a fence, but overall it was more hot than anything. He wanted nothing more than to explore his PA’s body to see if he had any other little discoveries in store for him, but with the grim look on his face he figured now wasn’t the time. 

 

Shortly after they’d finished looking after themselves and begun to settle, Jack decided he was bored. Like insanely bored. The unexpected incident has ended the day rather early and he didn’t exactly plan any other activities. He had to get this kid thinking about something else so he’d fucking  _ talk _ already. And he was running out of time on his own promise to make Rhys his, so ya know, why not kill two birds with one stone?

 

“Hey, Rhysie. Can I, uh, open up to ya real quick, like on a personal level?

It's been prolly a decade since I last expressed any sort of emotion and you look like you need a distraction, so maybe it’s about time I let something out.” If Jack revealing that he did, in fact, have a heart didn’t interest him then nothing else would.

 

Rhys looked up at him from his supine position on his bed, bemusement replacing some of the traumatized expression on his face, “I guess. I mean, sure, yeah, go ahead.”

 

Jack sucked in a breath before speaking, “Okay, so there's this person, right? There's always a person isn't there?” He paused, appearing doubtful of his own decision to speak, and continued, “Anyways! This person isn't the type I usually go for, and on top of that they're an employee of mine so it's a little odd?”

 

Rhys quirked an eyebrow at this bit of information, raising himself up onto his elbows when Jack’s voice wavered with a twinge of something unidentifiable in the usually overconfident voice, almost unnoticeable. Almost. 

 

“Never shacked up with an official Hyperion employee, not since I became CEO,” he swallowed thickly, looking at Rhys with wide eyes, frustrated that he didn’t interject with anything and he was going to have to stop beating around the bush if he wanted to get anywhere with him. God, he felt like a fucking 15 year old. He was nauseous at the thought of being so close to telling him what he felt, but he couldn’t take the plunge. So he kept rambling on. 

 

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do in this situation because they are  _ not _ receptive to flirting in the slightest. Somehow them being too stupid to realize that I wanna kiss them makes me wanna kiss their dumbass face even more. It’s a problem, I’ve been distracted from my work because of this shit.”

 

Rhys shifted, now sitting all the way up with his legs crossed like a kindergartner. Jack noted that it was very cute and turned away quickly so Rhys wouldn’t see his face when he involuntarily smiled in adoration. 

 

Rhys’ voice came after a moment’s hesitation, “Oh ok, uh… how can I help?”

 

The CEO spun on his heel, facing him again, “Wel, I figured you must have some experience in the department, ya know, I feel like you’re on the desperate side of unrequited love pretty frequently ? This is kinda a first for me so…” he trailed off, twisting his fingers in his hands.

 

Rhys scoffed indignantly, ignoring Jack’s self proclaimed desperation, “First of all, I’m not always desperate, it's just… been awhile since someone was interested in me is all,” He huffed defensively when Jack snorted in amusement, “And I can’t really give good advice unless I know who we’re talking about, so.”

 

Jack paused for a beat, not really expecting the conversation to move so quickly. In his attempts to make some conversation he’d cornered himself into confessing. He’d have to think on his feet for this one. 

 

“I can’t tell you.”

 

Rhys folded his arms across his chest and smirked, “Guess I can’t help you then.”

 

_ What a bitch, _ Jack mused, regretting that he started up this topic. He didn’t reply to Rhys, only leaned against the wall, unsure of how to steer things in back his direction. 

 

Rhys spoke for him, “What if I guess?”

 

“You’re such a nosy little twerp, forget I said anything.”

 

“No, seriously. Besides, you did say I looked like I needed a distraction. Guessing games are pretty distracting,” mischief shone bright in his heterochromatic eyes, and fuck if he wasn’t cute when he was excited about something, even if it  _ was _ at Jack’s expense.

 

He sighed in defeat, frowning as he sat on the bed next to Rhys, “You know what? Fine. I’ll play your little baby game. Because that’s what you are. A baby who needs entertaining.”

 

Rhys clapped his hands together and looked expectantly at his boss, curious eyes scanning every inch of his masked face, “Well?”

 

“What do you mean, ‘well?’”

 

“Give me some hints, dum-dum.” 

 

“Uhh okay, sure. Let’s see, they’re hot as hell for starters, surprisingly smart despite how dense they are, nice voice,  _ terrible _ fashion sense, like god awful. And then there’s the obvious fact they deal with my bullshit on the daily and haven’t made me kill them yet,” Jack drummed his fingers nervously against his bicep, arms crossed. He felt small and scrutinized his moment, like an insect being observed by an adorable twunk scientist. The way Rhys was hanging onto every word thrilled and terrified him to his core.

 

Humming thoughtfully, Rhys took a moment to wrack his brain, “Is it Meg?”

His answer was unconfident, he himself had to know it was a reach.

 

“Who? OH! Meg? Nah, not her, she reminds me too much of Angel.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Nobody, moving on.”

 

“Okay, are they anyone i know?” he spoke slowly, as if he’d just learned them only recently.

 

Jack snorted and rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I’d say you’re probably the person who knows them best.”

 

“Oh gid it isnt vaughn is it?” The horror in Rhys’ voice at the prospect of his best friend and his boss hooking up made Jack howl with laughter, doubling over to catch his breath.

 

“ _ Fuck _ no! Way too short for me, although his abs are sicknasty I can't lie. He’s gonna make some accounting nerd  _ very _ happy one day,” he responded as he wiped tears from his eyes, laugh still audible in his voice, a humorous sort of lilt that eased away some of Rhys’ shock.

 

“Okay,” he started cautiously, “so maybe they're more average height?”

 

“Ehh, I’d say tall is more like it. Babe’s got legs up to their neck.”

 

“Male or female?”

 

“Male.”

 

Rhys slumped at that answer, brow furrowed as he tried to connect puzzle pieces that he knew didn’t fit together. Hell, they probably weren’t even from the same puzzle.

 

“I’m stumped.”

 

“Are you serious?” Jack barked a laugh, “You’re kidding me.”

 

“I’m serious! These hints aren’t enough to lead me anywhere!”

 

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, “Okay, sport, here's another hint. He sucks at guessing games.” There, now the skag was out of the bag.

 

“That could be anyone, Jack!” An overtone of frustration soaked Rhys’ voice, leaving the other man to gape incredulous at him. The skag was still in the bag.

 

“Sweet mother of- YOU! Jackass, im talking about YOU,” Jack shouted, head in his hands.  _ Oh my god, he’s a moron!  _ his internal monologue seemed to shout along with him. Skag irrefutably outside of the bag this time. 

 

Rhys fell silent at the sudden outburst, staring at his hands, contemplating. He didn’t seem like he really believed Jack. Even in this moment, he was perfect. Really fucking stupid, but perfect. The silence began to crawl under Jack’s skin, eating him alive from the inside out, but this time he didn’t dare break it. He waited impatiently for any sort of response, any indication that what he’d said had gotten through. When Rhys to peer at him, it was with trepidation. For what, he wasn’t sure, but the way he flitted his eyes on every facial feature made Jack self-conscious. He’d never say it out loud, but he was sensitive about his face. The real one. The one that he had to hide away. Baring his emotions left him as vulnerable as removing the mask would. It felt like Rhys could see right through every wall he put up around himself, even if logically Jack knew that he was totally in the dark about most things. Would he like what he saw if he tore those walls down? 

 

“Maybe we should get some sleep, talk about this in the morning,” Rhys’ soft voice pulling Jack from his spiraling thoughts.

 

For once, he had nothing to say. He rose from Rhys’ bed and crossed to his own. He didn’t dare look back, he was too proud for that, but he listened intently for the other man’s movements as they both tried to drift away. Rhys succeeded fairly quickly, likely exhausted from the long day, but Jack lay awake for hours, the anxiety he claimed to not have clawing its way through his body, needless adrenaline pumping through his veins. Eventually, however his adrenaline crashed and he could finally sleep. 

 

That night he dreamt of unrequited love. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was supposed to be a two-parter but it seems it’s going to be a bit longer. There will be at least three chapters, maybe even four depending on how I’m feeling. I kinda just write it as I think it up so there’s no real plan here. If you liked it please let me know what you thought and if you have any suggestions on where I can improve I’m all ears! Here’s to onesided loves and grown men who can’t communicate their feelings, cheers!


	3. Bone-in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry this is a little late but uhh here it is! Its like 90% porn and admittedly shorter than I intended so, be warned.

Jack woke slowly, vision blurred with the promise of a new day, feeling more tired than when he’d fallen asleep. He slightly shifted to stretch out his back, grunting softly as he did so, his body felt heavier than usual. He dismissed it as stress. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he attempted to sit up, only to find his midsection weighed down by a mass hidden underneath his covers. Blinking dumbly, he lifted the blanket to discover Rhys, face nuzzled into Jack’s stomach and arms limply wrapped around his middle. 

 

_ Oh fuck that’s adorable. _

 

Jack’s mind began to race, thoughts half formed in his tired state. When had Rhys switched beds?  _ Why _ had Rhys switched beds? What the fuck was going on? He hesitantly reached for the other man, lightly carding his fingers through soft auburn. Rhys’s breath tickled the sensitive skin of Jack’s stomach where his shirt had ridden up during the night. He let his hands drift lower, grazing over the nape of his neck. His touch made Rhys stir, sighing through his nose and shifting his weight so he was on his back, hand now resting on Jack’s hip. In his barely awake haze he fiddled with the waistband of his sweatpants, making Jack’s breathing halt. 

 

“Hey, Rhys,” he whispered, shaking him lightly. Rhys groaned and shook him off.

 

“Rhysie,” he tried again, voice lilting. He placed his hand on Rhys’ shoulder and shook again, this time successfully waking the younger man.

 

Half-lidded eyes slid over Jack’s form, from the way his hip curved to the dusting of salt and pepper hair trailing up to his navel to broad shoulders and finally to mismatched eyes, gazing directly into his. Wait a minute…

 

Rhys jumped at the realization that Jack was awake, fumbling his way on to the floor with a yelp, face redder than a tomato, stammering but not quite getting out any words. At least not any that Jack could understand.

 

“Woah there, baby, be careful. You might hurt yourself,” Jack sneered from his languid position under the covers, noting how cute Rhys was when embarrassed. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed and quirked a brow, not bothering to stifle his shiteating grin.

 

“I can explain!” Rhys’ voice was practically in falsetto, hysterical, “It was just, uh, cold! Yeah, freezing. My bed’s right under the vent, see? Brrr!” He rubbed his arms comically, weakly attempting to emphasize the fact that he was cold.

 

Jack barked out a laugh, “Cold? On Pandora? Funny.”

 

Rhys stared holes into the ground, still laid out from where he’d fallen off the bed. He wasn’t covered by the blanket anymore, revealing that Rhys had shucked his sweatpants at some point in the night. Because he was cold, right? 

 

“You know, Rhysie, you could have just asked. After my, er,  _ confession  _ last night you’d figure that would open some doors,” Jack slurred, still groggy. He leaned back on his forearms and tilted his head, unabashedly spreading his legs just enough for Rhys to notice. He blushed even more than previously considered humanly possible, trying and failing to avoid risking a glance.  _ Those damn gray sweatpants, they work every time. _

 

“I don’t know, Jack, wouldn’t it be wrong? I mean, we could get in serious trouble. You’re my  _ boss. _ ”

 

“Tell me, cupcake, who would hold me accountable?”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

A moment of tense silence passed and Jack leaned forward again, elbows resting on his knees, “What do I gotta say to get you back in this bed with me?” His voice was soft and low, the hint of lust hiding behind a calm exterior spurring Rhys into action.

 

The younger man scrambled to his feet, immediately being taken by the waist to the bed. Before he knew it, calloused hands were at his sides and weirdly soft lips were pressed against his. After the initial shock, Rhys kissed Jack back with fervor, open mouthed and softly moaning into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, tangling his flesh hand in his hair. 

 

_ God, finally _ , Jack’s exasperated inner monologue seemed to scream at him. One hand snaked under a thin t-shirt and rested over the other’s chest, he could only feel Rhys in this moment, his warm mouth, his quickened pulse, his soft skin. He felt high.

He pulled away from Rhys, breaking the kiss.

 

“ _ Off, _ ” he tugged at the shirt, pulling away further to remove his. They moved quickly, reattaching themselves as soon as their first obstacles were overcome. Rhys used the break in momentum to maneuver his way to the top, straddling Jack and noting that he was already hard. Jack rocked up into Rhys, hands planted firmly on his ass, squeezing hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises in the soft skin there. They remained like that for a minute or two, grinding against each other and grunting. 

 

Rhys gasped when Jack suddenly dipped his hand into his boxers, the skin on skin sensation sending heat through his body. He grazed a finger over his entrance, circling it teasingly.

 

“I bet you’re real fucking tight, huh?” He whispered, “Bet you feel like  _ heaven. _ ”

 

“Keep teasing and you’ll never know.”

 

_ Now where the  _ fuck _ did that come from? _

 

Jack grinned wickedly, stopping his bare-minimum ministrations to wrap his around Rhys’ throat, squeezing lightly, “Impatient, are we? Well, I’ll gladly pick things up a bit if you ask nicely.”

 

The younger man thought for a moment, “And if I don’t?” 

 

From the look in his eye, Jack could tell he knew exactly what he was doing. He flipped the two of them over so he was on top again and sneered, “I guess I’ll just keep teasing.”

 

He roughly tugged Rhys’ boxers off, the cool air meeting heated skin making him hiss. Pinning both of his hands over his head, Jack began a slow trail of open mouthed kisses down his body, starting from his neck. He sucked a dark mark right next to his circular tattoo and bit down hard on his collarbone before making his way towards his nipple. He rolled it between his teeth, Rhys groaning at the mixture of pain and pleasure. With his free hand he pinched the other one tightly, eliciting another, higher pitched sound. Deciding that was enough of that, he licked a line from Rhys’ navel to his sternum, looking up at him without breaking eye contact. The slack jawed look on his employee’s face made his dick twitch, still restrained by his sweatpants. He cursed himself in his head and maintained a relaxed facade, reminding himself this would all be worth it.

 

He released Rhys’ hands, and gave him a stern look so he knew not to move them before pulling his hips to the edge of the bed, lowering himself to his knees. He was eye level with Rhys’ dick, the sight of precome dribbling down his head tempting as hell, but he resisted the urge to lap it up. He told him he wasn’t going to give him that until he asked, and he was a man of his word. Instead, he nuzzled into Rhys’ inner thigh, nipping lightly at it. He looked back up at Rhys and grinned wolfishly at the sight of him biting back a moan.

 

“Rhysie, baby, I wanna hear you moan. Don’t make me ask twice,” he punctuated his statement with a kiss just next to the base of his leaking cock.

 

“Give me a reason to moan,” a strained voice retorted, the man now raised to his forearms so as to see Jack better.

 

Jack weighed his options. He could submit to this challenge and abandon his promise, or he could swallow his pride and stand strong. His pride eventually won out after a moment of deliberation, he couldn’t bear the thought that he might not be giving Rhys a reason to moan.

 

He first gave in to his earlier urge, licking up the precome gathering at his slit before taking the head into his mouth, tongue working the underside. Rhys bucked up wildly at the sudden wet heat around his member, Jack holding back the urge to gag when it hit the back of his throat. The sound of Rhys’ voice was worth it though, soft and cracking a bit with pleasure, going straight to his dick. He palmed himself through his pants and went back to work, not holding back any longer. Jack bobbed his head enthusiastically, spurred on by a keening symphony playing only for him. He was pleasantly surprised by himself when he took his cock all the way, nose pressing into auburn curls, eliciting a wordless shout from Rhys, who now had a hand balled tightly in his hair.

 

“Jack, fuck, I’m so close,” he panted, brows knitted tightly together as he felt an old familiar heat building up at the base of his spine.

 

Jack pulled off with a pop, spit dripping from his beaming mouth, “Come for me, baby.”

 

He then started on stroking Rhys to completion, kissing the head sloppily. Right as he saw that the younger man was going to burst, he took his cock to the root again, feeling warmth spurting down his throat. He came off, coughing at the strange sensation.

 

“Never swallowed before, you should consider yourself lucky, kiddo,” he quipped weakly, “Your turn to put in some work.”

 

He fished some lube out of his bag (don’t judge him!) and sat himself on the bed before handing it to Rhys, “Work yourself open for me, I wanna watch.”

 

Rhys was too dazed from his orgasm to argue back, squeezing some lube from the bottle and positioning himself. Jack leaned back on his haunches and watched in awe as he saw one, two, three fingers working the other man open. By the time the last digit was disappearing and reappearing with the others, Rhys was hard again and biting his lip to quiet his moans. 

 

As much as Jack was enjoying this little show, he needed some stimulation and he needed it now. He pulled his dick out, grunting a bit at the momentary friction against his sweatpants and rose to his feet. He swatted Rhys’ hand away, relishing the disappointed moan when he pulled out his fingers, and quickly pressed his head into the tight, wet heat. 

 

Both men moaned at the sensation, Jack pausing for a beat to let Rhys adjust, knowing he was a lot bigger than his fingers. He smirked when the other man squirmed, wiggling his hips back towards Jack and wordlessly begging for more.

Sucking in a breath, he slowly pulled out almost entirely and snapped his hips forward again, causing the man under him to cry out. 

 

“God, kitten, I was right about you feeling good,” he sighed as he picked up a quick rhythm.

 

“I believe you said ‘like heaven’ actually,” Rhys shot back, looking over his shoulder to make eye contact, a teasing smile on his lips.

 

Jack chuckled and smacked his ass playfully, immediately massaging it afterwards, large hands laying claim to the soft skin as he pistoned himself in and out. He had to admit, the kid had a killer body, slender and flexible and with an ass that was fleshier than it appeared when clothed.  He was kinda obsessed with his ass, kneading it like dough before he realized he was being kinda rough. Rhys didn’t seem to mind however, panting and whining as he rocked himself back and forth on his hands and knees to meet Jack halfway. 

 

Heat pooled in his stomach and it felt like flames were licking up the base of his spine, knowing he’d come soon. 

 

_ Johnathan, I swear to GOD if you come before this little twink does I’ll make you regret it _

 

Of course, this was a bluff, as his own thoughts couldn’t possibly hurt him. Right? Regardless, the temporary distraction had curtailed his premature orgasm and he sighed in relief when Rhys’ movements became frantic and sloppy, barely holding any resemblance to the steady pace they’d set earlier.

 

“Jack, please, I—“ his own whining moan cutting himself off as he came, legs shaking as he bucked his hips.

 

“Yeah, baby, that’s the ticket, come for Daddy,” Jack said, biting his lip as his own release slowly crept back into existence. A few more thrusts and he came undone, filling the thoroughly wrecked Rhys with his come.

 

Before either of them knew it, they were awash in afterglow and sweat. They lay in comfortable silence, bodies draped lazily over each other. After a few of these moments, Rhys broke the silence. 

 

“Did you call yourself daddy?” 

 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I did. Never done that before, but hey! Gotta try new things every now and then, right?” 

 

“Did you like it?”

 

“Yeah, actually I did.”

 

“I’ll remember that for next time.”


End file.
